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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26325508">nothing i have known</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/some_stars/pseuds/some_stars'>some_stars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bittersweet Ending, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, mention of past Geralt/Eskel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:29:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26325508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/some_stars/pseuds/some_stars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt's been out on the path almost a year, learning just how much the human world hates witchers, when an innkeeper shows him unexpected kindness. (Then they have sex.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>200</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>nothing i have known</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Been playing around with this one for a while because it just wouldn't leave me alone, even though I'm pretty sure the potential audience is tiny. Oh well, it made ME happy. Thanks to Gavilan and IneloquentSD for betaing!</p><p>Title is from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1Eh-ltGUU4">Every New Leaf Over</a> by Jeffrey Foucault, which is my Geralt anthem in general.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt trudged up to the door of the inn and paused. He didn't dare hope for a room, befouled by mud and ghoul blood as he was, but he'd been wary of sleeping in people's stables without permission since the last time he woke to a wild-eyed farmer with a pitchfork. If the innkeeper turned him away he could sleep outside, of course, and usually that was fine, but at the moment he was so exhausted and sore that the prospect weighed miserably on his shoulders.</p><p>He would have to go inside, he decided, and risk being driven out. It wasn't a small risk; almost a year on the Path had taught him that. Never mind that he'd just killed the ghouls that had been devouring the people of this town; that counted for very little, he'd learned. Still, he would try. He tied Roach off and stepped inside.</p><p>Sure enough, though it was nearly midnight, two men still sat belly up to the bar, and their gazes turned hard and frightened as they met his yellow eyes. He looked away and caught the eye of the innkeeper, a woman who looked to be in her early to mid forties. She was regarding him with a distinct lack of fear or loathing.</p><p>He pushed his hood back—sometimes it put people more at ease, but sometimes the white hair set them on edge—and started to ask if he could bed down in the stables for the night, and buy some feed for his horse. But before he could say anything, the woman said, "Well, I suppose you'll be wanting a bath with your room, won't you?"</p><p>"Lissa," one of the men whispered loudly, "be careful! That's the witcher you're talking to."</p><p>She turned to him and rolled her eyes. "Do I look like an idiot to you, Marcus? Of course it's the damned witcher." Looking back at Geralt, she smiled. It brought out the lines in her face, but made her no less handsome. "I'll have the girl fill the tub," she said. "Hope you don't mind cold water."</p><p>He'd heard similar words on the few occasions he'd managed to buy a room and a bath over the past year, but Lissa's voice wasn't mocking, just brusque. Her whole demeanor startled Geralt so much that he almost thoughtlessly replied, <i>It's fine, I can heat it myself,</i> before catching himself at the last second. The last thing he needed to be doing in front of a hostile audience was bragging about his mysterious witcher magic.</p><p>Instead he said, "I need to stable my horse."</p><p>"Of course," Lissa said. "Stable boy's asleep, but I can wake him if you need any help."</p><p>Geralt shook his head and turned and walked out. He heard Lissa calling as he stepped out—<i>Pol, go fetch a bath</i>—and felt as dazed as if he'd been hit in the head. After the warmth of the inn, the sudden cold was bracing, but he still couldn't quite believe his unexpected good fortune as he walked Roach to the stables and set her up for the night. </p><p>It occurred to him as he brushed her that he wouldn't have any money to pay for all this until the next morning, when he turned in the ghoul head to the alderman. He'd spent his last coin on provisions in the last town, and he'd hoped to have the money in hand before needing to use it, but the fight had gone for hours longer than he'd expected.</p><p>Perhaps Lissa would accept a promise of pay in the morning. She didn't seem suspicious of him, strange as that was.</p><p>When Roach was comfortable and fed, Geralt headed back inside with his bags. Lissa emerged from behind the bar smiling, and led him up the stairs, pointing to a narrow room that just barely accommodated a tub.</p><p>"Come back down when you're done," she said, "and we'll see about feeding you." One of the men let out a loud <i>hmpf</i> of irritation, but she ignored him.</p><p>Nothing could have sounded better—he hadn't eaten all day, trying to ration what little dried meat and bread he'd been able to afford—but he didn't dare presume too far. "I can't pay yet," he said. "Not until I get paid tomorrow."</p><p>"Then I reckon you'll pay me tomorrow," she said. "Now go, get yourself clean before you drip everywhere."</p><p>The door closed behind her and he stripped quickly, eager to be free of the filth that clung to him. The water was cold indeed, but an application of Igni fixed that, and Lissa or the girl had left a yellowish chunk of soap by the tub. He busied himself scrubbing and washing his hair, and after a long while he finally felt clean.</p><p>Bathing had been one of the few luxuries available at Kaer Morhen, though he'd hardly understood that at the time. The hot springs under the dormitories and the ability to get <i>clean</i> whenever he wanted had simply been taken for granted, but the past year of traveling had taught him how foolish that had been. A bath was a rare gift, these days.</p><p>A towel had been laid on the bed, and he briskly rubbed himself down before changing into his other set of clothes. His armor still needed cleaning, but the promise of a meal took precedence.</p><p>The two men were gone when he went back downstairs, apparently unwilling to share the establishment with his kind, but Lissa was waiting with a bowl of stew, still steaming. As he came down the stairs she looked him up and down with a curious kind of appraisal, something he couldn't quite place. </p><p>"Well," she said, and the corner of her mouth crooked up, "don't you clean up nice."</p><p>Geralt paused on the last step, not at all sure how to respond to that. Lissa chuckled.</p><p>"Come on," she said, "don't let it get cold."</p><p>Slowly, Geralt walked over, sat down, and picked up the spoon. There was no reason to be suspicious of Lissa—she'd only been kind—but the experience was so foreign, and her attitude so inexplicable, that he felt almost more ill at ease than if she'd thrown a rock at him. It didn't help that she chatted with him as he ate, an ordinary friendly stream of chatter as if he were an ordinary, friendly traveler. As if he were the sort of man who got welcomed into inns and bathed and fed, and not—what he was. </p><p>He grunted short replies when they seemed called for, and she didn't press him for more. She drank a pint of ale as he ate, and it gave her a slight flush and a broader smile. She leaned toward him, too, bosom resting on the bar as she looked right into his golden eyes and told him rude stories about the alderman.</p><p>Before long he was scraping up the last of the stew, savoring the feeling of not being hungry anymore. He laid the spoon down and, because it felt absurd but necessary, managed a rough, "Thank you."</p><p>"Sure you don't want some more?" Lissa asked, and it was just too much—too much confusion, and too much kindness.</p><p>"Why are you being <i>nice?</i>" he burst out, more harshly than he meant to, and felt immediately embarrassed. It was beyond stupid—if he had any sense at all he'd just accept this treatment as he accepted the opposite, without complaint or comment. But he couldn't hold back the question.</p><p>Lissa chuckled, but there wasn't much amusement in it. "I guess folks aren't usually, are they?"</p><p>An understatement. He shook his head, unwilling to risk saying anything.</p><p>"Well," she said, and tossed her head, hair falling over her shoulder. "The way I see it, you helped us all out by killing those monsters. And you've acted more a gentleman tonight than most men who walk through those doors. So I don't see why I shouldn't treat you decent."</p><p>"I...suppose," he said slowly.</p><p>She smiled and leaned forward again, one finger tracing a line across his arm. "You know," she said, her voice suddenly huskier, "I could treat you better than decent, if you wanted."</p><p>The shock of being touched left his mind frozen for a moment, so that he didn't even understand what she meant until she met his eyes again, gaze warm, and bit her lip. The realization rendered him speechless, heat rushing to his face.</p><p>He'd fucked before, of course—over the years he and Eskel had done pretty much everything it was possible for two boys to do with each other—but there hadn't been any women at Kaer Morhen. There <i>had</i> been three books, which circulated widely but were always stashed back beneath the same floorboard in the armory in some unspoken collective agreement. One of the books had had engravings, and the other two had been handwritten compilations of stories, almost a century old judging by the crabbed writing and the descriptions of undergarments.</p><p>Geralt had had his turn with the books like all the other boys, and he'd studied them intently, hoarding the images and phrases to replay in his mind late at night. He'd been excited, in the weeks before finally setting off on his own, at the possibility of maybe <i>doing</i> some of it with an actual woman someday soon.</p><p>Of course, that had been before he left Kaer Morhen and realized just how repulsive most people found witchers. Over the past year he'd contemplated visiting a brothel, just to see what it was like, but he could never get the money together, and the thought was a little depressing anyway. He didn't want sex to be like that—a cold-eyed exchange of coin for flesh, a bored woman pretending to thrill at his touch. He wanted—he wasn't sure what he wanted, but he thought it was something like what he'd had with Eskel: the haven of soft touches after a long day getting battered on the training grounds, the shared grin when one of them discovered just the right place to touch, just the right trick to do with their mouth. </p><p>He'd been silent too long, he realized, and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Lissa smiled at him, making him keenly aware of his own blushing.</p><p>"You've never been with a woman before, have you?" she said kindly. He shook his head, feeling terribly young. It was a strange feeling, one he hadn't had in a long time, but a little exciting. "Well," Lissa said, "I'd be honored to be your first, if you're interested." She grinned, a flash of wickedness sparking across her face. "I promise I'll be gentle."</p><p>"Okay," he said, before he could think twice about it and convince himself not to. He felt dizzy and terribly off-balance. In any other context, he would have been in danger. But all that happened now was that Lissa came around the bar and took his hand, leading him through a door to the back of the inn, down a hallway and into her bedroom. Her bed was far more suited for the upcoming activities than the narrow cot in his room upstairs; it was broad and looked soft, almost overstuffed.</p><p>He stood in the middle of the room shifting from foot to foot, not sure what to do next, but Lissa answered his unspoken question by unbuttoning her blouse and pulling it off, followed quickly by her skirt until she stood in only her white shift. Through the thin fabric, he could see tantalizing hints of her body—the deep red-brown of her nipples, and the dark patch between her legs. </p><p>"Go on then," she said, and tugged at his shirt. "I want to see you."</p><p>Nudity had never been a particular erotic focus in his past sexual experiences, if only because the shared baths inured pretty much every young witcher-to-be to the nakedness of their fellows through sheer exposure. He'd always enjoyed looking at Eskel's body as he touched it, the two of them growing and putting on muscle over the years side by side, but he'd never given much thought to the act of stripping—until now, with Lissa's heated gaze resting heavy on him, making him swallow thickly as he pulled his shirt off and unbuckled his belt. She reached out to touch his chest as he revealed it, stroking the hard muscle with a firm touch. It felt almost possessive, and he was shocked by how much he liked it.</p><p>He stepped out of his trousers and she moved closer to him, put her hands on his underclothes but didn't pull them down. </p><p>"May I?" she asked with a teasing smile.</p><p>He nodded—her face was so close he could feel her breath—and she slowly tugged the fabric down past his hips, easing them over his rising cock, until they fell to the floor. She ran her hands back up his body slowly and looked him up and down with a deliberate gaze that made heat pool in his stomach.</p><p>"Oh, you do cut a fine figure indeed, don't you?" She stepped closer, pressing their bodies together, and the sheer heat of her through the thin fabric drove any possible reply out of his mind as she cupped his face with one hand and kissed him.</p><p>He kissed back with wild enthusiasm. He'd done this before, and it wasn't much different with a woman—her mouth was smaller, a bit, and her lips a little plusher, but the rest was the same. A few seconds into the kiss she started to laugh and pulled away, and he froze in a near panic, wondering what he'd done wrong.</p><p>"I'm sorry," she said, still giggling, "I just—I realized I didn't even ask your name yet." </p><p>"It's Geralt," he said, relieved that he hadn't embarrassed himself somehow, and she nodded.</p><p>"Pleased to meet you, Geralt," she said. "My name is Lissa." She pulled her shift over her head with no further ceremony, revealing herself to his gaze. She was so much <i>more</i> than in the engravings—her full, heavy breasts, the dip of her waist and the swell of her hip, the dark hair peeking from under her arms and growing bountifully between her legs. He felt his cock rise full and taut as he stared at her, and all he wanted—more than money or food or air—was to touch her, but he was too overcome to move.</p><p>She smiled warmly, as though she could hear his thoughts, and took his hands and placed them on her breasts, sighing with contentment as he touched her. "There you go," she said, "you can touch all you like, it's all right."</p><p>This was new, utterly new, and yet it felt as right as touching Eskel ever had. He knew immediately that he would always want this, and it was a bittersweet thought; there were precious few women like Lissa in the world, unafraid and welcoming to a witcher. He tried to banish the thought by squeezing his handfuls gently, brushing his thumbs across her nipples and watching as they hardened and she sighed again, eyelids fluttering.</p><p>"That's good," she told him, and it sent a deep rush of satisfaction all through him. He wanted to hear it again—<i>earn</i> it again. A line from one of the dirty storybooks flashed through his mind and he dipped his head to kiss her breasts, first around her nipples and then on them, licking firm strokes as she pushed forward against his mouth. "Yes," she said, her voice breathy, "oh, what a quick learner you are."</p><p>He could have stayed there, bent with his face in her breasts forever, but after a minute she pushed him away gently, taking him by the wrist and leading him towards the bed.</p><p>"I've got a better way for you to use your mouth," she said, her voice full of promise. "And then we'll see about taking care of you, hmm?" With her other hand she reached down and gave his cock a quick firm stroke, tearing a gasp from him that would have been humiliating but for the way it made her eyes darken and her tongue flick out to wet her lips. </p><p>She lay back on the bed, legs spread like an invitation, and he clambered on after her and knelt there, unsure what to do next. He felt hot all over, dangerously close to coming just from that one touch. He could go again, of course—he wasn't sure if that was down to youth or the mutations, and supposed he'd find out in time—but it felt important to stay in control, to prove that he was worth her attention.</p><p>"Now, I take it you know how it all works?" Lissa asked. "Between a man and a woman?"</p><p>He nodded. "I've, uh, read stories."</p><p>She smiled brightly. "Oh, wonderful! And did any of those stories mention any other acts besides the main event? Anything with mouths, perhaps?" As she spoke, she slipped one hand down between her legs, fingers rubbing little circles across a spot at the top of her slit. It evidently felt good, from the way she tilted her hips up into her own touch and bit her lip.</p><p>The stories had, in fact, mentioned mouths in various capacities; it didn't take too much deduction to figure out what she wanted. He crawled awkwardly into position, legs hanging off the edge of the bed, and lowered his face to her cunt, taking a deep breath. For a moment the smell was overwhelming—rich and salty, like sweat but somehow <i>more</i>, deeper, tantalizing. </p><p>"Mmm, you witchers have excellent senses of smell, don't you?" She chuckled. "Now, there's an art to this, so pay attention, and I'll tell you how to do it." She ran a fond hand through his hair. "You don't mind taking instructions, do you?"</p><p>He shook his head, lips already parted and eager. He couldn't fathom not wanting that, wanting to do it right, to do his best, to be <i>good</i> for her.</p><p>"That's what I thought," she said, and with two fingers spread her cunt open, revealing a glistening deep pink and red softness. "So start like this, with just little short licks..."</p><p>She led him through it step by step, rewarding him each time he mastered the next part with gasps and, eventually, lovely deep-throated moans. "Ohhh," she purred, as he sucked gently around her clit, "oh, you good boy," and his chest seized with the urgent need to hear it again. He shivered, and she laughed. "You like that? You <i>are</i> a good boy. Listening to me so well...now put a finger inside, just one. Yes, that's right—" She broke off into a cry as he bent his finger, so he did it again, and again, basking in the sounds she made, the praise that spilled from her lips—<i>good, good, good.</i></p><p>Towards the end she pulled him in tight by his hair, and with his face buried in her wetness he couldn't breathe and didn't want to, wanted to live in this small universe of heat and pleasure forever. Too late, he realized that he was rutting against the covers as he licked and sucked, and couldn't stop himself; when he came he cried out his muffled pleasure into her cunt and she grunted and ground up hard against his mouth, holding him there as she climaxed with pulses of wetness and fluttering muscles around his finger inside her.</p><p>When she let him go he pressed his face into her thigh, breathing hard, face hot with a mix of embarrassment and pride. After a moment he felt her fingers combing through his hair again, more gently this time.</p><p>"It's all right, darling," she said, her voice full of affection. "No need to be embarrassed. I know how young men are."</p><p>He lifted his head, wiping a hand across his face. "I can go again," he said, and indeed, he felt himself starting to get hard once more. As he sat back on his heels, exposing himself to her view, Lissa's eyes widened.</p><p>"So you can," she said, sounding a little breathless. "And not a moment wasted, my goodness." </p><p>An odd feeling—pride mixed with a warm, pleasant shame—washed over him as she looked at him, and when she beckoned him he crawled up next to her without hesitation. To his surprise, she took his head in her hands and kissed him deeply, her tongue searching his mouth for, he could only assume, a taste of herself. Her soft noise of contentment vibrated against his lips as she let him go.</p><p>"In that case," she said, "I think we're ready for the main event. Now all you need to decide is if you want me on my back, or you on your back."</p><p>"Me, please," he said immediately, and felt himself flush all over at his own eagerness, even more when she laughed, delighted.</p><p>"Why does that not surprise me," she said, and bent to kiss him again, then withdrew. He rolled over and lay there, waiting as she climbed on top of him, anticipation building fast and hard until he almost wanted to grab her and pull her down onto him. But far more than that, he wanted to hold still—he balled his hands into fists at his side—and let her take him, however she wanted.</p><p>She paused on her knees, hovering over his thighs, and ran her hand up and down his standing cock a few times, humming happily. "This is really something else," she said, making him squirm under the praise. "An absolutely lovely cock. You should be very proud, darling."</p><p>"I..." He didn't know what to say to that. With a plea in his eyes he stared up at her, his breath speeding up from her touch. She laughed again, and that same hot bolt of delicious embarrassment ran through him.</p><p>"It's all right, I'll stop teasing." She gave him a warm smile and then finally shifted forward, lifting herself, and guided his cock inside her as she slowly sank down.</p><p>The feeling was familiar and yet impossibly different from fucking someone's ass. He slipped in easily, no tight ring to breach, but the walls of her <i>clasped</i> him in a wholly new and unexpected way that made his eyes roll back a little and his hips tremble with the effort of holding himself back. She leaned forward and planted her hands on his chest as she settled herself, letting out soft little grunts and whimpers.</p><p>"Ohh," she said, her voice softer than before. "Oh, you're bigger than I've had in a while—ah—<i>oh,</i> yes—" </p><p>She bit her lip and started to move, rocking forward and back. He hadn't been able to see her face when he was eating her out, and the sight of her pleasure left him stunned and breathless.</p><p>"Can I," he choked out, "can I touch you? Please?"</p><p>Her eyes focused on him, and they were full of fondness as she reached out to stroke his face gently. "Of course you can, darling. I'd like that."</p><p>Permission granted, his hands flew to her thighs, sliding up the flexing muscle to cup her ass. It was soft and heavy in his hands, filling them and shifting under his palms as she worked herself back and forth, up and down. Tentatively, he slid his fingers down to where they were joined and groaned aloud at the feeling of her dripping wet cunt stretched around him. </p><p>After that he couldn't seem to stop touching her. He cupped her breasts, heavy and full and bouncing with every motion she made, and pulled sweet sounds from her when he pinched her nipples lightly, then harder, because she seemed to enjoy it. </p><p>Finally, as she started to fuck him faster, she grabbed one of his hands and pulled it between her legs. "Touch me here," she told him, and her voice was kind but firm. "Just like before, with your mouth—<i>yes,</i>" she hissed with a hitch in her voice as he did as he was told and rubbed her clit.</p><p>The way she cried out as she drew nearer and nearer to her climax undid his self-control and his hips began to thrust up, helpless and frantic. She didn't seem to mind, though, meeting each thrust as it came, grunting every time he drove up into her, and he abandoned any attempt to hold still. With one hand on her hip he pulled her down against him and lifted her up, while his other hand kept playing between her legs, moving faster, pressing harder, doing whatever made her swear and gasp until finally—just as he felt himself about to lose control—she slammed herself down hard on his cock and cried out her pleasure, clenching wildly around him as his thumb worked her sopping wet clit until she fell flat on top of his chest, weakly batting his hand away.</p><p>"Fuck," she muttered, panting, "fuck, that was good." She planted a sloppy kiss on the side of his mouth, startling him, and grinned. "Now, normally I wouldn't let a man spend in me, for I've not quite quit my courses yet and the last thing I need is another child. But I've heard tell of witchers..."</p><p>"We're sterile," Geralt confirmed. He'd never given much thought to the fact, other than a brief inexplicable sadness when he'd first learned of it, years ago. He'd certainly never thought of the potential practical applications.</p><p>"<i>Well</i> then," Lissa said, eyebrows raised salaciously. "How do you want to finish, inside me or on me?"</p><p>He hadn't imagined that there would be a choice, and his mind went blank at the imagery it conjured. Finally he managed to stutter, "In—inside, please?"</p><p>"Of course," Lissa said. "We'll have to switch, though. I'm too tired to keep being on top." </p><p>Without really thinking about it, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, then rolled over, effortlessly carrying her weight, so she was beneath him. She blinked up at him in surprise and he worried for a second—humans didn't always like being reminded of his strength.</p><p>Then she laughed and traced her fingertips over his upper arms wonderingly. "Gods, you're strong. You could just pick me right up, couldn't you?" He nodded and she grinned. "I wish I'd thought of that earlier...been a good couple decades since I got fucked against a wall." She spread her legs wider, tilting her hips up toward him and reminding him abruptly that he was still hard and inside her. "Go on then. I don't think I've got another one in me, so you just do what you like."</p><p>Somehow without the goal of pleasuring her, his own pleasure felt dulled—but it was still sharp enough that he wasted no time in starting to thrust once more, setting a hard, fast rhythm that he knew would topple him over the edge quickly. She watched his face intently as he fucked her, a deep flush spread over her cheeks, letting out an occasional purr of pleasure, shivering now and then, clearly still enjoying herself, and it buoyed him—he could still do right, he thought, a little hazy as his orgasm approached. He could still get it right—</p><p>Lissa reached up to touch his face, fingers brushing over his lips, and without thinking he took them into his mouth and sucked on them, wanting to feel her inside him. Her eyes widened, but just for a moment before she pushed them deeper, stroking his tongue.</p><p>"That's what you like, hmm?" she murmured, gentle as anything, but something about it set him off and he slammed home once more, dissolving into his climax as he came harder than he had in a long, long time.</p><p>He maintained just enough presence of mind to collapse by her side instead of on top of her, and lay there panting for several moments, basking in her pleased hum. When he felt her hand on his face stroking gentle little circles, he opened his eyes and looked up at her, feeling oddly vulnerable.</p><p>She gazed down at him warmly and said, "You did quite well, for a first-timer."</p><p>"Well, it's not," he started, and immediately wanted to backtrack when she raised her eyebrows. Boys fooling around with boys was standard practice at Kaer Morhen, but he'd heard enough comments by now to know that it wasn't always popular out in the world, depending on which part of the continent you were in. Still, he didn't want her to think he'd lied. "It was, uh, it was my first time," he mumbled, "with a woman. But not..."</p><p>He was tensed in preparation for a grimace of distaste, but Lissa only chuckled and leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. "Ah, there's many a boy who learned the ropes on other boys, dear. No need to be ashamed. I remember I used to practice kissing with the other girls in town sometimes."</p><p>He and Eskel had done rather more than practice kissing, but Geralt figured it was best not to go into further detail. Thinking of Eskel right now made him feel unaccountably sad, and he wanted to focus on the warmth of Lissa beside him, her sweat-damp body pressed up against his own as she touched his face. He'd always loved the moments after sex, before falling asleep, when his body felt used and exhausted but in a good way, like he'd climbed a mountain or won a fight.</p><p>He didn't realize that he'd started to drift off until Lissa shook him lightly. "None of that, now," she said, still smiling. "I don't want to bother you, but you'll have to go back to your own room to sleep. I can't sleep right in a shared bed, not since my husband passed ten years ago. I just toss and turn for hours. You wouldn't get any sleep either," she added, "not with my elbows in your face."</p><p>"Oh," Geralt said dumbly. "I mean, sure. Whatever you want." He sat up, and they weren't touching anymore, and he felt coldness descend on him like a cloak, which was foolish. It wasn't as though he were in love with Lissa, after all. She was just—kind, and she'd wanted a fuck, and he'd given her what she wanted, so now it was over.</p><p>Before he stood up she leaned over and kissed him again, hard and fast, and murmured, "That really was lovely, darling. You've got a bright future ahead of you."</p><p>He doubted that very much, but he made himself smile as he stood and pulled his clothes back on. She was already most of the way to dozing by the time he finished—and true to her word, she was spread out over the bed like a starfish, leaving no room for him or anyone else.</p><p>He closed the door behind him quietly—nodding as she lifted one lazy hand to wave goodbye—and made his way back to the front of the inn and then upstairs, where the cold and befouled remains of his bath still took up most of the space. Mind carefully blank, he set to cleaning his armor. He'd planned to do it tomorrow morning, but it would be better taken care of before the filth had time to set, and anyway he found himself remarkably awake all of a sudden.</p><p>Still, he could only spend so long at it—and cleaning his sword after that—and eventually the lateness of the hour and the twin exertions of his evening drove him into bed and, thankfully, to sleep. </p><p>—</p><p>Geralt slept well—the bed was soft, and the room was warm, and it was a far cry from a pile of hay in a stable. He woke early and dressed and went downstairs to find Lissa yawning behind the bar, frying bacon as her girl stirred a pot of porridge. </p><p>"Geralt," Lissa greeted him, with a friendly smile. "Come sit, have some breakfast before you go."</p><p>He shifted uncomfortably. "I should go check in with the alderman," he said. "So I can pay you."</p><p>Lissa gestured dismissively. "Ha, that lazy bastard won't be up for another hour at least. You can come back and pay for the room later, before you leave."</p><p>"And the food," he insisted, even though it made her frown a little. He'd learned not to turn down charity, on the rare occasions it was offered, but taking it from Lissa felt...wrong, somehow.</p><p>"As you like it," she said, and turned to the girl. "Pol, give him some porridge, will you? With a little honey if we have it."</p><p>The girl obediently scooped out a bowl for him and spooned a generous helping of honey on top before placing it in front of him. Geralt ate mechanically, only barely registering the sweetness of the honey, already thinking of where he should go next, how much longer he had before winter truly began and he'd have to find some place to hole up—or go back to Kaer Morhen, of course, but he didn't relish the thought of wandering those halls as the youngest and least experienced witcher, an adult practically in name only. No, he'd go back next year, or the year after, when he could better hold his own among the witchers he'd been raised by.</p><p>Still, it meant he'd have to find some kind of steady work for the winter, and he was thinking on what cities might be best to aim for, when he looked up and almost startled at Lissa leaning in front of him, elbows on the bar.</p><p>"Copper for your thoughts," she said with a crooked smile. "Always wondered what witchers think about. Some say it's just monsters and money, nothing else in there." She tapped his forehead, making his eyes briefly cross as he fought not to pull away. "What's on your mind, Geralt?"</p><p>It seemed hard to believe that only last night he'd been entangled in her, face buried in her cunt as he tried desperately to please her, wanting nothing more, head empty of pain and sorrow and calculation. It seemed like something that had happened years ago, and she seemed like a stranger. He supposed she was.</p><p>"Monsters and money," he said, and looked away as he took his last bite of porridge and stood up. "I'll go fetch my pay and be back with what I owe. Have the boy get my horse ready, please."</p><p>He felt her looking at him as he walked out, but he didn't look back.</p><p>The alderman was indeed still in bed, and less than thrilled to be roused only to have a ghoul head shoved in his face, but he fetched Geralt's payment, grumbling as he handed it over. It was all there, and Geralt felt relieved he wouldn't have to engage in any delicate negotiations—delicate because, of course, if the alderman decided to take back what he'd given and call the town guard on him, there wasn't a thing Geralt could do about it short of killing him, which was not the impression he wanted to leave on this town—not the memory he wanted to bear with him.</p><p>When he made it back to the inn, he went straight for the stables, and sure enough Roach was shiny and munching at the last of her feed, already loaded with his belongings—evenly and comfortably, Geralt noted, a little impressed. The stable boy lingered in the doorway as Geralt waited for Roach to drink her fill, and he beckoned the boy over.</p><p>"Here," he said, placing a crown in the boy's smudged hand. "That's for my stay, and what's left over is for you." He didn't know exactly what he owed, but for a bath, a bed, and two meals for him and Roach, that wasn't too far over—though judging from the way the boy's eyes widened, he might have been a bit more generous than he meant to be. Well, it didn't matter; there'd be more money soon enough, or there wouldn't, but either way he wanted to move on.</p><p>He'd head north, he decided as he rode, for a city—Vizima, or Novigrad, someplace big enough they wouldn't be shocked to see a witcher. And there was always work in cities—some of it monsters, the ones that had adapted to the urban environment, but some of it just labor for a strong man. There were inns, and boarding houses.</p><p>There were brothels, too. Geralt thought perhaps he might visit one. His previous objections to the exchange of sex for money seemed childish now; it was past time he accepted that it was simply his lot.  A clear-eyed negotiation and business deal, after all, couldn't be mistaken for anything else. He would simply have to keep his wits about him.</p><p>Not thinking about Lissa, not thinking about wherever Eskel might be just now, not thinking about anything at all, in fact, Geralt rode on until the town was far behind him, its name barely a memory.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Follow me on <a href="http://some-stars.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> for Witcher shitposts, WIP updates, occasional prompt fills, and just because I very much need people to talk to about this stupid, stupid show. :D? :D? Also, if you would like to reblog this story, you can <a href="https://some-stars.tumblr.com/post/628535770736721920/nothing-i-have-known-somestars-the-witcher">do so here!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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